


Van Hellsing's Cafe

by FeardotJpeg



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, F/F, Fluff, aka i deleted this fic and then lost the original word document so i'm rewriting it, back stories are mostly the same except for some rearranging because again, but not the sexy kind, character's have been aged up about 3 years to keep with a more realistic timeline, daddy issues everywhere, everyone is some flavor of queer, except for the bastard himself who has been aged down about 572 years, except pip who is the token heterosexual, it just wont all be original vampire flavored angst, like the pheonix i rise anew, nobody is a vampire, the very sad arthur hellsing kind, this will not be super dark but it is a hellsing fic so of course there is going to be angst(tm)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 01:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20073538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeardotJpeg/pseuds/FeardotJpeg
Summary: Seras, in the throws of a quarter-life crisis, quits her job on the police force. Thank god for unconscionably scary men throwing around job offers like bird seed.





	Van Hellsing's Cafe

Seras threw her badge on the desk. It landed just in front of the Sargent’s paperwork with a soft, final thunk. Sargent Renfield looked up from his work, surprised.

“I quit,” Seras announced. Renfield’s eyebrows crept up towards his receding hairline.

“You what?”

“I quit. Effective immediately.”

Renfield blew a tired breath and leaned back in his chair. “May I ask why, Officer Victoria?”

Seras leveled at him a cold stare. “No,” she said. “You may not.” And she left the office, shutting the door hard behind her.

_Five years_, Seras thought to herself, furiously. _I give them five years of my life and this is how they repay me. Five years of traffic disputes and “oh could you get me a coffee, love” and the fucking _second_ I get the chance to put that cunt away and they let him off because CSI can’t find their asses with two hands and a flashlight!_

She was so caught up in her fury she didn’t look before storming through the precinct’s front doors, right into somebody’s chest.

“Oh!” she spluttered. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I should’ve been looking where I was going.” She looked up to see who she ran into. And kept looking up and up and up. “Christ you’re a big’un,” she spoke without thinking. She squeaked and slapped both hands over her mouth. “I mean, um,” she stammered. The man in the red coat smiled. He must have been nearly seven feet tall, and he was what many would consider “hot,” in a terrifying goth kind of way, though he was not Seras’s type. He smiled and it sent ice up her spine.

“You’re fine,” he said. “I wasn’t looking either.”

“Er,” said Seras, thrown at having met what was certainly the tallest American on the planet. “Right.”

The man gave her a once over. “You’re a cop,” he said. It was not a question. “I’d like to file a report.”

“Oh, no. I just quit actually. And you’d have to talk to the man at that desk over there, anyway.” She pointed to a bored looking ginger flipping through a stack of papers.

The man continued to stare at her. Seras flushed, uncomfortable under the gaze. “Do you have a job lined up?” The man asked after a beat. Alarm bells rang through Seras’s mind.

“What’s it to you?” She demanded. The man laughed and it was not a nice sound.

“Relax,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “My boss is looking for some help around the shop. I simply thought this kind of coincidence was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Seras took the business card.

Van Hellsing’s Café

(x)xxx-xxx-xxxx

She looked back at the man. He held out a gloved hand, smile much less manic. “Vladislav Alucard, barista.” She took the hand and didn’t wince at the nearly preternatural grip. The smile widened. “If you’re interested,” he continued. “Come by tomorrow at 5:30. Bring a resume. Ms. Hellsing will interview you and if it goes well, you’ll start immediately.”

Seras glanced back down at the card in her hand, trying to formulate a response. While she thought, the man brushed past her and disappeared into the crowd inside the station.

At a quarter past five the next morning, Seras stood outside the small café with an embossed folder in one hand and the business card in the other. When she’d gotten home the night before, she set out researching the café and was relieved to find that it was 1) a real, actual place and 2) the man who offered the job to her was a real, actual barista and not some kind of human trafficker. Though there was still the matter of how she would actually get in to the building. Seras pressed her face up against the dark tinted glass that comprised most of the façade to no avail; she could see nobody inside. She back away and began looking along the door frame for a doorbell. She shrieked as a long pale face materialized in front of her. The man, Alucard, grinned, and opened the door with a jingle.

“Police girl,” he rumbled. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Seras gasped. She clutched her chest, willing her heart to slow its panicked tattoo. Alucard led her into the café without a backward glance and pulled out a seat from a table in the middle of the dining area.

“Sit. I’ll go tell Integra you’ve arrived.” He glanced at the clock on the wall made a pleased hum. “Early, too.”

As he left, Seras took the opportunity to examine the little shop. It was rather nice, she decided. There was on one side of the space, a long dark wood counter that separated the seating area from the general food prep/coffee making area at the end of which squatted an enormous bakery case, currently empty. There were four stools sat in front of the counter to make a bar, and this section was separated from the work space by a long but short plexiglass shield behind which sat a beautiful red and chrome espresso machine. Written across the espresso machine in glittering chrome lettering was the manufacturer name: Casull. Behind the front counter was another set into the far wall on top of which was a veritable library of teas, an industrial coffee pot that looked like it belonged in a military hanger somewhere, and a terrifying coffee grinder that strongly gave the impression that it had tasted human flesh and was hungry for more. In the seating area there were several tables littered about which matched the counters, as well large, friendly fireplace surrounded by squashy red couches. On the walls were hung several dramatic photos of the English countryside and London, as well as some photos of what Seras assumed were the café employees, given that Alucard was in many of the photos.

Her attention was diverted at the sound of the saloon doors to behind the counter swinging open. Seras stood and turned to greet what she assumed was her prospective employer and nearly fell over. Making her way over to the table at which Seras sat, dumbfounded, was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. The woman had long blonde hair, flawlessly clear brown skin, and a shocking pair of blue eyes framed by handsome brass rimmed glasses. Seras swallowed audibly. The woman smiled.

“You must be Alucard’s police officer. My name is Integra Hellsing, I’m the owner.” The woman, Integra, stuck her hand out to be shaken. Seras grabbed it with perhaps more enthusiasm than was appropriate.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms Hellsing. I’m Seras Victoria!” Seras hoped she wasn’t blushing and passed the folder containing her resume to the woman. Integra gestured for her to sit.

“The pleasure is all mine, and call me Integra,” she responded. Now Seras knew she was blushing. Integra continued. “I must admit I was surprised you came at all. Alucard told me how the two of you met. Frankly it sounded unbelievably creepy. I apologize for him.” The man in question took this moment to begin loudly grinding coffee.

Seras laughed and ran a nervous hand through the back of her hair. “It’s alright, really. Nice to have a job offer so soon, in any case.”

Integra hummed in agreement, flipping through the resume. “About that.” Seras wilted. “I just want to be clear,” Integra continued, looking up from the folder. “You realize that in taking this position, you will also be taking an almost 50% pay cut from your previous job?”

Seras knew. She’d done the math, and she didn’t like it, but she lived well below her means while she was an officer and she had a decent amount put away. She also didn’t think she could handle a drawn-out job search after the year she’d had.

“I’m aware,” she replied.

Integra held her gaze. Seras swallowed. “Very well,” the owner said at last. “We’ll be happy to have you aboard. If it’s alright with you, you’ll be starting immediately. Alucard will take care of training. If he’s an ass, let me know and I’ll straighten him out for you.”

“You’ve never made anything straight in your life,” retorted a low voice from behind the counter.

Seras giggled despite herself. Integra shot Alucard an irritated glare.

“Thank you,” Seras interjected. “I won’t let you down.”

“No,” said Integra, rising from her seat. “I don’t think you will.”

Three hours later and Seras had thoroughly abandoned any notion that cafes were calm, peaceful workplaces. The last time she’d felt this frazzled she’d been wearing riot gear. She hadn’t even gotten to touch the espresso machine or the register yet. Alucard had her running back and forth fetching food and filling supplies. During a small period of downtime, she’d asked when she’d get to learn how to make the fancy drinks and her coworker had all but hissed at her while clutching his red and chrome baby.

“You’ll learn how to use Joshua when you've learned the bakery case and the layout behind the counter,” he’d told her. Seeing the pace at which he had to move to both take and fill orders, she decided to defer to his experience.

Seras was nearly half in the bakery case trying to reach an almond croissant when an old man wearing a short black ponytail exited the backroom, coat in hand. He was Walter Dornez, in-house baker. Seras liked him. He seemed rather sweet, and he’d let her stick a finger in some batter he’d finished with, so that had been a point in his favor.

“I’m off,” he announced. “Good luck, Ms Victoria, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Goodbye Walter,” she called, voice echoing off the glass.

“I’ll be counting the seconds, Angel,” said Alucard.

Walter walked out the door flipping the bird behind him. Alucard cackled.

With a cry of victory, Seras snatched the croissant with a gloved hand and plated it. She passed it to Alucard who tossed it on the counter in front of the woman who’d ordered it. He glanced at the clock on the wall and said the sweetest four words she’d ever heard in her life:

“Go take your fifteen.”

Seras nearly wept as she ran into the backroom. She was greeted with the sight of Integra pulling a tray of biscuits out of the oven.

“Oh, Seras,” she said. “How’s your first day going?”

“Quite well, ma’am.”

Integra smiled. “Glad to hear it. You seem to be picking the work up quick.”

“Oh,” Seras brightened significantly at the compliment. “That’s good. Truth be told, I was feeling a bit in over my head. But I really am enjoying the work! Very um, quick paced, which I like.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Integra chuckled. “It’s a lot at first. I’m well aware.” She checked her watch. “Hm, I’ll let you get back to your break. Keep up the good work.” She passed Seras with a clap on the shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am!” Seras saluted, then, as Integra left to help Alucard finish the morning rush, slapped herself upside the head. “Oh!” She exclaimed. “A salute? What were you thinking, Victoria?” Seras slid down onto a milk crate and tried not to spontaneously combust out of embarrassment.

Van Hellsing’s closed for an hour at eleven, during which they took their lunch. Seras snatched her Tupperware of pasta from the walk-in and when she emerged into the main café, she nearly dropped it. Integra had Alucard’s arm twisted behind his back, while he held aloft with his other arm, a cigar.

“Give it back you bastard!” She hissed in his ear. He laughed.

“You said you’d quit. What would Walter say if he knew you’d lied?” He teased.

“Oh, come off it! You couldn’t care less what Walter thinks, you’re just being a prick!”

“Oo, name-calling isn’t nice, Teggy. I’m going to break it.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Um,” Sera said. The other two’s attention snapped to her. Integra took the moment’s distraction to snatch the cigar out of Alucard’s hand. Alucard pouted.

Integra smoothed down the wrinkles in her jacket from the scuffle. “Sorry you had to see that,” she said with an air of dignity.

“I’m not sorry for shit,” Alucard piped up. Integra smacked him, lightly, on the shoulder, playing nicer now that there was a witness.

“I’ll join you both shortly,” she announced, and swept out the front door.

“What on earth was that about,” Seras asked. She sat down at the table with Alucard. He grinned wolfishly and took a large bite of his sandwich.

“Integra’s down to one cigar a day, so she’s touchy.”

“Oh. Good for her.” Seras wasn’t entirely sure how to carry the conversation, so she opened her lunch, and was greeted with a heavenly smell of garlic and tomato. Alucard made a face and scooted away from her. Seras did not bother trying to hide her offense. “Alright,” she said. “I don’t think my cooking warrants that kind of reaction.”

Alucard had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “It’s not that,” he said. “I’m allergic.”

“To what gluten?”

“Garlic.”

Seras stared. “No,” she said. “There is no possible way. I refuse to believe,” she carried on. “That you are a real person named Vlad who works someplace named Van Hellsing’s and is allergic to fucking garlic!”

“Go, then,” he sighed. “Get it out. I know you want to.”

“You’re a bloody vampire,” she shrieked, gleefully. “No wonder you moved to England: there’s no sun!” Alucard rolled his eyes and valiantly continued eating his lunch. Seras kept going. “Do you sparkle? On average, how many nights a week do you turn into a bat? What color is your coffin?”

The door to the café jingled as Integra returned from her smoke break.

“Integra,” Seras cried, laughing. “Did you know you’ve employed a Dracula?”

Integra quirked an amused eyebrow. “Found out about the first name, did we?” She asked.

“No,” Alucard answered sullenly. “The allergy.”

Integra sat down with her own lunch and looked at Seras’s pasta. “Smells good,” she complimented. “I can’t remember the last time I got to have garlic in pasta.”

Alucard scowled. “It’s not like I’m stopping you.”

Seras had a realization. “Wait,” she said, incredulous. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve never had garlic in _anything_?”

“Of course, I have,” he snapped.

Integra snorted. “Yes, it only sent you to the hospital,” she shot back.

Alucard sent her a withering glare. “S’not my fault your dad didn’t keep any EpiPen’s around.”

“You still have to go to the hospital if you use an EpiPen, you know,” Seras put in. “Nobody likes having to do an emergency tracheotomy just because some prick can’t be bothered to go see a doctor.” The other’s looked to her in shock. “What,” she defended. “I was a first responder.”

“Yes,” said Integra. “But I didn’t think most police officers learn how to preform emergency surgery.”

“Oh, they don’t,” agreed Seras, holding Integra’s gaze. “But I wasn’t most police officers.”

Integra looked away and took a long drink from her water. If Seras didn’t know better, she’d think her boss was blushing.

Lunch continued in much the same manner, Alucard and Integra bickering and Seras cutting into the argument occasionally. She found herself basking in the easy comradery. She hadn’t ever felt so welcomed in the police force. Not to say that the other officers were hostile, or even unwelcoming. It was simply that Seras had kept to herself and no one had bothered to try to reach out to her. But there, in the café, she found herself charmed by the sheer force of the personalities of her new coworkers and, almost against her will, she was pulled out from behind the walls she kept up. She could imagine herself being very happy in the little shop. Seras watched dreamily as Integra gave Alucard a good-natured tongue lashing.

Very happy indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: integra is not easily flustered.  
Also me: but she has a competency kink


End file.
